Life this year has been a ride - water rapids on a rollercoaster through fire sort of ride. At first it seemed like there were too many people on the boat. You can't quite remember who all is there and what they do but they are all super important. Onco, breast surgeon, radiation onco, nurses, chemo, gynecologist... They feel like buoys to help keep the boat balanced and safe.
Being breast cancer awareness month I am acutely aware of some of the interesting things that we say to 'raise awareness'. For me I find most (not all) of these things funny, but do they really raise awareness? "Save second base!" "MANogram - place breasts here"
I have had a swack of appointments in the last couple of weeks along with a very exciting - yet nerve wracking - surprise phone call.
I am angry. Inexplicably angry that I don't get to choose the end point. That it is effectively chosen for me. This. THIS is what enrages me most. And yet, rage nor anger are the right descriptors. It's devastation: severe or overwhelming shock or grief
Being scared, worried or even down right petrified makes it hard to think. Focusing becomes challenging. Remembering things that you used to be able to remember with ease suddenly becomes a significant test.
It comes in waves. The loathing, disgust, and desperation for what was. This absolutely was the best decision - to have a double mastectomy - for a number of reasons for me. BUT. That doesn't mean it's not hard mentally and emotionally.
I can feel the skin with my fingertips, but I can't feel the fingertips on my skin. Bonus, the pain goes away when I do that.
It was 'easy' to find the lymphnode and get the wire hooked into the right spot, but my medial tumor was much more challenging. Gotta make it interesting right?
Time to cut these traitors off